What Comfort in the Knowing

"They're really nice tomatoes, I admitted as I gaped at my garden in bafflement!But I have never had tomatoes this early. It's spring and I just planted them!I am just not prepared to can/preserve tomatoes yet!"This was my dream this morning just before I woke up completely😂😂😂 Suddenly I have refreshed appreciation and gratitude for the law and order of times and seasons!No matter how eagerly we await spring,imagine of we woke up this morning and our lawns needed mowing(that was also part of my dream; as I looked aroundI realized our lawn looked like a field!!and I wondered how I missed it?!) What if we woke up, a child once more?! Gen.8:22“As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.” ...none can withhold morning from the awning of daybreak (it's been so long since we've had a sunrise that the place I was watching for the sunto break over the horizon had shifted WAY over from the last time I saw it!)I gasped as I gazed at the cross formation! Spectacular! Here's to a Friday full of thankfulness I’m thankful for the sequence of season-circuits and suchFor nature’s law and order not swayed by impulsive touchWhat comfort in the knowing that spring waits in winter’s wakeAnd none can withhold morning from the awning of daybreakOr trick the bud that cradles flowers waiting to unfoldWith rutabaga rather than petals of red or goldAnd that the measure of a life moves forward tick by tockAnd doesn’t trick us with high noon instead of five o clock …that babies are born innocent, no matter where or whoAnd God’s goodness and mercy are not but for favored fewThe earth and its fulness thereof and all who dwell thereinBelong to He whose name is love and saves us from our sinI’m thankful, that midst so much unpredictabilitySo much, since the beginning is like it always will beRegardless of the atheist’s emboldened disregardNo one can gloat or boast because of nights, quadrillion-starred I’m thankful that we are not being constantly perplexedBy midweek weekends or never knowing which day is nextAnd everyone grows old and gray at threescore years or fourRather than some who are returned to childhood’s grind/grant once moreI’m thankful that no matter what may change much stays the sameThat we don’t wake to face a wild and cruel guessing gameBut take comfort in knowing He who ordained nature’s waysOf times and seasons keeps His Word until the end of days What comfort in the knowing that for all who have believedHeaven is worth the waiting for, beyond all we have grievedThat time and all its trouble is but like a bubble's scopeWhen compared to eternity with He who anchors hope...and comforts those who mourn with promises to which we clingCertain of their fulfillment as we are, waiting for springWhile giving thanks to He from whom all changeless order flowsIn unerring precision and the comfort it bestows © Janet Martin Or trick the bud that cradles flowers waiting to unfoldWith rutabaga rather than petals of red or gold